


The Couch

by iamfitzwilliamdarcy



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/pseuds/iamfitzwilliamdarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s only been a week since Mr. and Mrs. Curtis died, and Steve’s not really sure where he stands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Couch

It’s the first time Steve’s needed a place to stay over since the Curtis’ parents died. And, to be fair, it’s only been a little over a week since the accident. He’s heard all of Soda’s whispered, anguished updates in between classes, at work—how Darry hasn’t been sleeping and Ponyboy’s been having nightmares and the house just isn’t right anymore. That’s why he’s standing outside pacing, trying to decide if he should go in our not. He just isn’t sure what he’s going to find, and he doesn’t want to dump his problems on Sodapop.

Before, he’d have been able to slip in quietly. Mr. Curtis would often still be awake; he’d give Steve a small, sad smile and make him hot chocolate, when they could afford it, or pour him a glass of water. He’d help patch Steve up, if he needed it, and they’d talk a little, about cars, sometimes Steve’s grades, but mostly cars, before Mr. Curtis would grab him a blanket and tell him to make himself at home on the couch. He’d turn off the lights once he got Steve settled, but Steve could always feel him hovering a moment longer, watching him.

It fucking sucked that he had to die and Steve’s bastard of a dad got to live. Steve feels guilty the minute he thinks it because for all that he hates his dad, he doesn’t. But there’s not getting around the fact that his dad is the reason he’s currently pacing in front of the Curtis’ house, looking for all the world like he’s some sort of criminal.

It’s that thought, and the chilly night air, that propels him, finally, forward. He takes the porch steps quickly and pushes the door open as quietly as he can. It still squeaks, but it’s not too loud. Steve blinks as he shuts the door behind him, taking in the dim light from the kitchen. He can see someone hunched over the table with a mug in his hand, and for a moment thinks it could Mr. Curtis. He squeezes his eyes shut, angry because he knows it’s not, knows pretending is a dumb game for kids.

“Steve?” Darry’s noticed him, and his voice, rough with lack of sleep, brings Steve back to the present.

He opens his eyes. “I just—,” he starts and trails off because this is something he’s never really had to deal with with the rest of the gang before. He knows they know; it’d be pretty hard to miss, even though Steve’s good at hiding, but he doesn’t know how much, and anyway, confronting it with them is a totally different thing. Sodapop and Mr. Curtis are the only ones he’s ever managed to even mention it in front of.

“You okay?” Darry’s in front of him now, and Steve almost wants to laugh because Darry, with his unshaven face and shadowed eyes and all sorts of responsibilities, is the one who shouldn’t be okay. It bubbles up inside him, different from the anger he’s gotten so used to.

Instead he nods. “Yeah, just got into a fight. Can I crash here today?”

“You don’t gotta ask,” Darry says, eyes narrowing in on Steve’s split lip and bruised cheek. “The door’s always open. That’s not gonna change.”

Steve doesn’t say thanks. He says “Go to bed, Superman, you look like shit,” but it’s close enough.

Darry actually cracks a smile, telling Steve to watch it, before he turns off the kitchen light and heads down the hallway to his room. Steve waits until he hears the door close to settle himself on the couch.

He doesn’t think about how Mr. and Mrs. Curtis are still dead and everyone’s torn up about it or how his own asshole dad will try to pay him off tomorrow and act like everything’s A-okay until the next time it happens or how Steve’ll believe him because he’s an idiot who can’t bring himself to stop. Instead, he lets his eyes drift close, knowing he’ll wake up to Darry’s cooking and Soda shouting at him to wake up. Things never seem quite as bad when he’s camped out on the Curtis’ couch.


End file.
